Final Fantasy VIII: Passion Uncontained
by Darker Scorpio
Summary: What happens when we lose our morals and fall victim to temptation? What happens when Squall sees Quistis in a new light? How easy is it to cheat on the one you love? A Quall. Somewhat AU. New chapter added, believe it or not...
1. Part I

**Passion Uncontained  
**A Final Fantasy VIII Fanfiction by: Darker Scorpio

**  
Disclaimer**: I do not own anything related to Square Enix or Final Fantasy. The only thing that belongs to me are the events in this story.

**Part I**

Everything about her was so different. Her look, her smell, her touch. Nothing about her resembled what Squall had spent months surrounded by. Quistis Trepe. There was something about her… something alluring to his senses. It was only natural when they started flirting. They had always been friends, but just one simple backrub one day changed everything.

The usual gang was sitting together in the lobby, but Squall was without Rinoa. She had been gone for some time. The lobby was alive with conversation as always, people joking and laughing at everyone else's expense. Spirits were high. It was then that Squall saw Quistis walk up to him with that small grin on her face.

She walked up and embraced him, not giving him a chance to reject, but why would he? They both smiled, but Quistis decided not to follow the norm today. Squall soon found his former instructor sitting on his lap instead of a random chair at the table. No one thought twice about it. Everyone was social like that in Balamb.

After a minute or so, Squall had an idea. He's always been the flirtatious type, and with Rinoa gone away for a while, he needed to release some of his "flirting energy." What better way than a nice neck rub? After all, a simple neck rub is harmless, right? Within seconds of Squall's large, strong hands stroking her neck and shoulders, Quistis melted to his touch. Squall grinned to himself with his own approval. Yet another one has melted to his magic hands. And, just as always, no one thought twice about it.

But why stop with a neck rub? If you're flirting anyway, you may as well make it even more fun. Besides, it's just scratching… scratching down the back, up the neck, over the scalp. Quistis purred and pushed back into Squall's hands, her back arching with every long stroke. His ego was growing, among other things. She has been successfully seduced by his charms. Quistis was melting to his touch, which was most likely the result of the increased warmth he felt on his leg, coming from between her legs…

The fun came to an end, however. A new class was minutes from starting and Quistis had to leave. Regrettably, to both parties, Squall ended his manual manipulations of her body and sat back. Taking her time to recover her energy, Quistis stood up with a nicely satisfied look on her face. Squall stood up as well, having is own obligations to attend. With one last glance back, Quistis left him with words to savor: "I want you."

Through none of this did Squall ever think of Rinoa.

The encounter in the lobby was hardly the last one. Only a day or so later did Squall find himself invited to dinner with Quistis and the gang. Why not? Besides, it meant more time he could spend seducing the vixen of his latest desires. So, off they left, making their way toward off campus to the restaurant a few miles away.

Dinner was harmless, as it should be. Everyone was having a wonderful time just being in the company of each other in a non-Garden setting. However, Squall found particular enjoyment in the foot climbing up and down his leg and the dirty grin on Quistis' face. He quickly realized he had his own matching grin.

Finished eating, the gang made their way out of the small restaurant and, regrettably, headed back to campus. The party was over for Selphie and Irvine; they had obligations to attend that evening. Seifer and Zell, however, were hardly busy for the next few hours, and gladly felt like keeping the night alive with Squall and Quistis. Squall could not ask for a better situation to continue his seduction, nor could Quistis with her own.

The privacy of a dorm room allows for much greater freedom when it comes to inappropriate actions, and nothing could be more inappropriate than Squall spending his little spare time seducing a woman that wasn't Rinoa. His conscience was beginning to tug at him, but it was an annoyance quickly tossed aside. Quistis made it even easier to toss away with her nails running along his neck, chest, and knee. Forgetting Rinoa was the only thing that wasn't hard.

Seifer and Zell thought nothing of it. Besides, they would have no room to talk. They're just as flirty, and everything being done was so 'harmless.' So, the night progressed, and everyone enjoyed the company of each other, with Squall and Quistis paying special attention to each other. Besides, they're all young… why can't they just have fun?

Soon, however, the evening bells tolled, leaving Seifer with no choice but to attend an administrative meeting. Sensing the night ending, Zell departed as well, leaving Squall and Quistis on their own. Thus, they moved to Quistis' dorm for their own privacy. Within minutes they were both in the door. Most would think that, given this situation, clothes would already begin to fall to the floor in an intense passion. Not, so, however. Something was holding Squall back…

Rinoa. The thought of her returned again. That nagging thought was more persistent now, reminding him that what he was doing was wrong. Still, he didn't care… almost. Quistis knew about Rinoa; everyone did. But, that wasn't stopping her, or Squall. So, the two of them talked for a while. Amazingly, hands were kept to themselves.

It hit Squall for the first time since the day in the lobby that he was ready to cheat on Rinoa. Deep down, this bothered him. Hell, it would bother anybody. But, still… Quistis sat in front of him, hardly turning him down. She understood, though. Even if she was kind to have fun and not look for anything serious, she wouldn't pursue Squall if he didn't want to jeopardize his relationship with Rinoa.

Then a pocket vibrated. Squall signed, looking at the time and knowing exactly who it was: Rinoa. He answered the phone and began the regular chit-chatting he always would, tired of constantly having to talk on the phone, night after night, about nothing. She asked him what he was up to, and he felt no reason to lie. Needless to say, Rinoa wasn't happy.

It wasn't that Squall was alone with Quistis in her dorm, because she was under the misconception that Seifer and Zell were still in the room. Squall conveniently edited the reality of the situation to appease a would-be-angry girlfriend. Regardless, Rinoa did not approve. Quistis, in her eyes, was as large of a whore as could be. For the next five minutes she proceeded to proclaim her disapproval, citing every reference to Quistis' whorish nature.

Squall didn't care. Instead, his replies were harsh. He was enjoying his night and was not about to stay home every night to talk to Rinoa. He cut her off soon, telling her he didn't know when he'd be home and they both hung up. His attention returned to Quistis, and they both had the same look on their face. It was a look of "Uh oh…"

Though the majority of Quistis could not resist Squall, she insisted that she didn't want to ruin anything. However, that same majority possessed Squall as well, and he assured his new toy that he knew what he was doing. The two of them shared a lot of ideals when it came to sex and relationships, not to mention they were both ready to fuck the shit out of each other.

Still, however, Squall's conscience tugged, and after a few hours, he decided to head back to his own dorm. Both of them had enjoyed each others' company enough for one night. Besides, there was plenty of time to pick up where they left off.

The weekend was finally upon them all. And yet, Squall found himself with nothing to do. So, while sitting in the dorm, he's very grateful when Quistis invites him to come along to Seifer's party. After all, it gets him out of the dorm and allows him plenty of access to Quistis. So, quickly grabbing his coat, he met up with her outside Seifer's dorm and enjoyed the sexual tension that ensued.

Being a dorm room, there's never anywhere to sit. The regular crew had already taken post in the one nice chair and all over the couch, leaving just one desk chair in the room. Squall sat down quickly, making his claim, and was rather pleased when Quistis found her seat on Squall's legs yet again. His plan worked, or was it even his plan to begin with? He wrapped his arms around her waste to hold her on the chair, and she leaned back in to him. The night had just begun.

Even in a desk chair they found ways to drive each others' desire. Squall would nuzzle his head against hers, causing it to involuntarily fall backward. Quistis would drag her nails across his knees and arms, sending shivers through his body. No one paid them any attention, however. Everyone else was too busy watching Seifer and Zell duke it out in a video game. However, when Irvine stood up and left his spot on the couch without claiming it, Quistis literally leapt out of the desk chair.

Squall sat there, waiting for an opportunity to find his way on the couch next to her. He didn't have to wait long. A simple pat of the seat cushion was all the invitation he needed. As soon as Squall settled himself on the couch, Quistis was immediately draping her body on to his. The rest of the night at Seifer's place was a blur.

Countless times Squall would feel Quistis' hands roaming up his body, running her fingernails along his neck and scalp. He would do similar things, petting her jaw and ears, nipping at her shoulder. All night, the two horn dogs continued their overly flirtatious advances on one another. Squall's mind however, couldn't be silenced as easily tonight.

The guilt soon started to add up. After four hours at the party, Squall backed off a little. His mind was attacking him full force. Granted, it sure didn't stop him from continuing to pull Quistis in to him and grope her lithe form. Quistis could tell, however, that something was bothering Squall and asked him, multiple times, if everything was alright. He smiled and nodded, discretely replying that he was only trying to figure some things out.

Not too long after that, everyone had decided that the party was officially over. Many were drunk and needed to sleep. But, if Squall had his way, the party would only be starting for him and Quistis. Everyone left their separate ways, and Squall left with Quistis, being the gentleman to "walk her home." Once again, the two of them were alone in Quistis' dorm room. Everything was going according to plan.

The situation was at its peak. It was now or never, and Squall knew that. So, he called Rinoa politely, covering his tracks for the night. He lied to her, completely, while he sat in Quistis' dorm and watched her change into her night clothes. Once he hung up the phone, the guilt once again returned. He fell back to lay on the floor, contemplating if he actually had the gall to cheat on Rinoa.

They both talked for a while, not sure if they both wanted to pursue each other further, but wanting to at the same time. Squall's mind raged, debating with himself, covering every tangent imaginable. Soon, however, the time for thinking ended. The final moment had come. Either he had to make a move, or he had to leave. Thus, he acted.

Their lips touched and it was a sweet, gentle taste at first. Shortly, however, both of them found hands clasping at clothes and lips pushed harshly into each other. Squall pulled back and looked at Quistis, who looked back at him. It was good. Very good. They both admitted that to each other and were quite ready for more. The lights were turned off and Squall's hand was grabbed, leading him to the bed. It was going to be a good night.

Quistis was damn good. Her kisses were hard and aggressive, but used no tongue at all. Everything was about the passion of the lips. Her hands ran everywhere over his body, grabbing and clawing so often. She writhed underneath him, unconsciously thrusting her hips upward. Squall, however, enjoyed her whimpers most of all. The soft, short moans she made drove him mad, driving him to force more out of Quistis.

At some point they both stopped for a breather, with Squall rolling over to the side of the bed. They both had the same expression: wow. Oh, it was so good. Everything she did was so much better than Rinoa. Rinoa… that was a reminder he did not want. Guilt washed over him in half a second, but was quickly discarded. Squall wanted nothing to do with those thoughts right now. Instead, he wanted more of Quistis, and was quite happy to find her reciprocating those feelings.

One leg slid over and her body followed. Quistis sat on Squall now, straddling him beneath her. It was such a shame the room was so hot, too, because now they both had to take their shirts off. Such a pity. They both waited for the other to make a move, so Squall reached up and grabbed the back of her head to pull her down. Oh, he's good.

The experience of Quistis on top was unlike the inverse. She moved and squirmed rapidly, constantly writhing from his touch. He lit her skin on fire with every rake his fingernails made, causing her body to writhe more. On a whim, he bit her on the shoulder, and he was rewarded with a deep moan. Squall grinned to himself and bit harder, and harder, worrying that he would bite too hard. Instead, Quistis only cried out for more. Rinoa never let him bite that hard… Again, he quickly turned off his mind and resumed pleasing his new mistress.

Quistis attempted to heighten Squall's own ecstasy by similar means, but he wouldn't give her the chance. He mercilessly attacked every button he could find: clawing her back and ass, pulling her down for yet another round of hard kisses, and biting her soft flesh. The heat between them was climbing fast, and hit a new peak when Squall discovered Quistis' ultimate button.

Given her delight from the biting, Squall had a feeling Quistis would love his next move, and he was right. Grabbing a handful of hair, he pulled hard. Her head pulled back with it, letting out a lust filled groan that Squall lived for. Once he let go, Quistis looked down at him. Oh, it worked. From that point on, Squall spent the entire night periodically grabbing her hair, mixing it in with the myriad of existing pleasures he brought her. It was a long night.

Soon, however, both felt the need to rest. Never wanting to stop, but needed sleep, Quistis removed herself from on top of Squall Both of them found their niche in the small bed and closed their eyes. Soon, Quistis was gone in an undisturbed slumber. Squall, however, was not afforded that luxury.

The entire night granted him little to no rest. His mind attacked him endlessly. The guilt he felt was at levels he's never known before. Squall, for the first time in his life, had cheated on his girlfriend. How… how could he do this to Rinoa, and have so little regret? How could he be that kind of person?

So, Squall spent his night tossing and turning. He couldn't sleep, and part of him didn't want to. Instead, he reflected on the person he became, and panicked about the coming morning when he would tell Rinoa everything… and experience a true Hell like never before.

**A/N**: Yeah, I know it's short and a piece of crap, but I felt like posting it. Review if you like. I don't write for you, anyway. I write for myself, like every author should. Besides, an author has to start somewhere. I have another 'fic on the way, a much larger one I've been writing for a year. If you liked my work here, you'll love what's to come.

...and yes, this story is all too true on a very personal level...


	2. Part II

**Passion Uncontained  
**A Final Fantasy VIII Fanfiction by: Darker Scorpio

**  
Disclaimer**: I do not own anything related to Square Enix or Final Fantasy. The only thing that belongs to me are the events in this story.

**Part II**

The adage rings, true, for Hell does not have even the fraction of the fury that is a woman's scorn. It's a shame Rinoa was not an ordinary woman, because then her fury may have remained at a survivable level. Instead, the betrayed woman seethed with anger and hatred beyond the norms of humanity, and every razor-edged word sliced unceasingly at Squall's crumbling psyche.

Thick boots trudged the ground, leaving trails in the dirt for any soul to follow. Though Squall wandered the world in his lost ideals, trying desperately to repair his fragile ego, he could not escape anything he sought refuge from. The trailed dirt of a broken soul's walk echoed behind the battered man, betraying his wishes to run away from the world without trace or detection. His pain would not leave him. His troubles would always find him, if only because all of his trouble and pain stemmed from himself and nothing else. The shrill, mechanic reproduction of Rinoa's voice in his ear only aided in fueling his problems.

Regret? Who wouldn't feel regret at this point? Shame and regret is all that remained from the delight and pleasure of the night before. But, the part that perplexed Squall was that he did not know which he regretted more: was it that he cheated on Rinoa, or because he let his guilt consume him and actually admitted it to Rinoa?

Rinoa screamed through her tears, shouted through her pain, yet never to his face. Instead, Squall's small phone with its slowly draining battery acted as the broken Princess' herald, screaming her voice in to his ear. As always, Rinoa remained away, off pursuing her own agenda and furthering her own needs. Even in this crisis beyond all measure of the world's real problems, she stayed in _her_ world, pursuing _her_ goals, yelling at Squall for hurting _her_.

She's a whore. She's a bitch. How could you do this to me? What were you thinking? I thought you loved me. That dirty fucking slut. I'll kill her. Why would you do this to me? And yet another slanderous outburst, and another meaningless question of loyalty, and another oath to avenge the wrong she was so unjustly subjected to. The message was getting lost, and fast.

There were no answers. There was no point in consoling the wailing victim. Squall did what he did, and there is no escaping it. He had no desire to even try to escape anymore. This was his fate, his destiny for violating the sacred rules of a relationship that Rinoa held on to so dearly. Now, he will pay the price for remaining loyal to the annoying woman living three hours beyond his life, for betraying the bond that she told him they shared.

Everything returned full circle, as Squall's trudging returned him to his dorm, tired feet carrying to his room and resting his tired frame in to his oversized desk chair. His mind was lost, perpetually drowning in the turbulence of Rinoa's onslaught of guilt, never relieving itself with the mercy of death. Even as his phone died, she demanded he return to his computer and continue his punishment online. At least his ears would be given a break.

Why was he putting up with this? What was the point? Was this to be his fate from now own, leashed to the hands of this shrill, demanding woman, forever kept at bay from the rest of the world because she decrees it so? That's not a life worth living. No man should have such a fate wished upon himself for one simple mistake. Perhaps that is what he deserves for his actions, though… to be restrained and removed from the rest of the world, all temptation gone as he is separated from the world that actually matters and left alone in hers. Funny how guilt will make such a life sound very reasonable and fair.

The small window on his monitor continued streaming text, constantly updating the rant that never ended, now with undertones of frustration as she could not speak to him over the phone anymore. A shame it wasn't important enough to leave her life there and pay him a visit to handle the issue directly. No, his eyes would have to suffer instead, reading instead of listening without a break. Was there no end to this? How long could she go on?

Days went on with this same torture, Hell rising up and swallowing the poor man. He could not escape. Every spare moment was spent apologizing to the inconsolable woman, seeking refuge from the torrent of horrid demands and unreasonable threats. Was there nothing he could do to end the storm, or was this his life from now on? With every new argument, every new inquiry of no merit, the point was slowly lost with time. Had Squall even cheated on this woman? He didn't know anymore, because it was hardly what she was so hard pressed to berate him for with every new topic.

With each new line of "this is why you should feel like shit," guilt was losing way to anger and resentment. If an apology was useless to this woman, then Squall would apologize no more. She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to hear anything from him. All she wanted was to yell, to scream, to demoralize and neuter him for one 'lapse of judgment.'

Quistis. Through all of this, he hadn't had the chance to think of her. Sure, his mind would recall the events of the previous night, as he relayed them to the angered Princess, and he had listened to unceasing questions of his motives and actions, but he was never granted an opportunity to actually devote his thoughts to the woman he wanted to think about. He wouldn't have, either, had another window of text illuminated on his screen.

Rinoa's wrath had not been limited to Squall's mind alone. At this rate, the entire world may not be safe from the turmoil of hate and guilt her thin lips spewed in all directions. Quistis had not been spared, the target of mountains of slander miles higher than he had to climb on his own. She, too, was breaking, and wanting to give up the fight. It was not worth the torture, the unyielding sadistic vengeance the scorned victim provided.

She poured herself to Squall, in the privacy that textual communication offered, pleading for forgiveness and begging for redemption for her actions. Guilt had found her, too, and turned her in to someone else, someone who felt unworthy to be themselves, to be free of judgment for her actions, someone who's strong will and fire of life turned to a shackled remain.

Was he not clear enough? Were some pieces of information lost in translation? It was established long ago that all guilt and punishment be placed on his hands alone, sparing Quistis of any harm. It was his desperate attempt to regain his lost chivalry at the time. She didn't listen. Slowly, Rinoa turned the other woman in to the source of the world's truest evil, an animated pile of trash unworthy of even the most unholy of attention.

Too many lines were crossed now. Squall was tired, bruised, and ready to bring an end to the war. Lives were forever changed, all due to his decisions, but he would not have others suffer for his pain, and despite her noble game and charade, he could easily tell that Rinoa was no longer suffering, or retaining any pain. She was enjoying herself. She was rejoicing in her ability to spread guilt, to force those involved to hate themselves more than she hated them. It was a game.

He was done playing. Guilt was over. He decided, at that moment and forever past it, that Rinoa needed to be stopped. It all came to him, in one brilliant flash, just how miserable of a woman she truly is, and how much of a fool he was for clinging to that miserable wench. He stayed with her, long after she left him. She can cry and scream all she wants, demanding justice for the pain she has suffered, but the truth claims otherwise. She has been removed from his life longer than either of them knew, or just admitted.

Regret. That did not exist anymore. Squall knew now why he pursued Quistis, and why he continued to pursue her, until the chase ended in her bed. He understood his decisions. Nothing was done without reason, and he intended to make that very clear to both female parties. Yes, they would both understand, though they'd hardly interpret his decisions in the same manner.

Squall did not cheat on anyone. There was no affair, and there was no evil act committed. Rinoa begged to differ, screaming insanities that claimed otherwise. The fool didn't know what was right or wrong, or what was good for him. She would tell him why there was an affair, and why it was so evil. Maybe that's why she didn't hear Squall the first time he explained that they were no longer together.

Power shifted, and there was a new totalitarian of the conversation. The tides changed, and Squall was now leading the charge, berating and demoralizing the fragile woman. The truest of thoughts and feelings poured out, stripping Rinoa of her power and pride, forced to choke on reality in the surge. He was done, and that's all there was to it. No more games, no more yelling, and no more guilt. Though, it's not as if he really had to end anything; she accomplished that when she left him months ago.

It meant nothing. All of it. The crying, the screaming, the begging and pleading… none of it meant a damn. He was not listening. He had no reason to. She could make her outrageous demands, then softly and tenderly wish him back, but he wasn't listening. It was over, whether she wanted it to be or not. That's what this entire ordeal was about. This was not the chase for new flesh to feast upon, or some momentary lapse in his pristine judgment. This episode, this ordeal, the night of untold pleasure followed with a solid week of harassment was all done for freedom. Now, Squall was free, torn away from her leash, allowed to live.

And with this new life, Squall had a very good idea with whom he wanted to spend it…

**A/N:** …hey. So, if anyone is even out there, and has read this before, here you go. Some people said they'd like to see this continue, so I did just that. And, yes, a lot of this is still true to real life, though edited for my own purposes. I know, this isn't as saucy as the last one, but if people are still interested, it just may be. winks


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